Methodius Buslaev. The Scroll of Desires
Шрифт:
“Are we going in this piece of junk? To England?” Methodius asked in distrust. He would never assume that such a coach was capable of moving at all. “Trust me, with Mamai this car will go anywhere you want. To England, to the Moon,” Ares said seriously. “And now let’s be on our way! Julitta, you haven’t forgotten the tailcoat for Signor Tomato? He has to change on the way! Mamai, time for us to go!”
The khan with effort opened the rusty door. The car smelled of swamp and rotted seat leather. Ares sat down first in the car. After him, lingering a little was Methodius, and Julitta was the last. Daph and Depressiac remained outside. The cat hissed. If it had fur, it would be standing on end. Likely, the cat sensed the heat of Tartarus emanating from the car. Methodius glanced at Daph in search of encouragement. She waved to him and immediately turned away, remembering that she was angry with Buslaev. Mamai lowered himself heavily onto the driver’s seat, seized the thin melted steering wheel, sneering obviously, touched the torn off hand brakes, not even taking the trouble to start the motor, and… the heavy car rushed forward with the speed of a comet.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.